


bright beautiful youth

by acastle



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, EXO (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 06:24:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15551613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: It’s almost easy to forget that Minseok is only a few years younger than him.(Changmin and Minseok, SM Town Live 2018 in Osaka, and how they spent the evenings after the shows.)





	bright beautiful youth

**Author's Note:**

> this pairing deserves more love and this is mostly sex (my bad). forgive any mistakes in characterizations, this is a work of many firsts: first time writing minseok as the younger one, first time writing in a perspective that's not an exo member's, first time writing changmin. written quickly and maybe a little haphazardly.
> 
> don't send to anyone mentioned please.

It’s almost easy to forget that Minseok is only a few years younger than him.

Changmin doesn’t know if it’s the difference in their heights, how he’s been working for almost two decades and Minseok’s only just about to reach the eight year mark, if it’s because he’s done with his enlistment and Minseok is literally still studying and getting more intelligent. Maybe it’s because Minseok looks so young, younger than many of his own members, than most members of the company, or it’s in the way he acts around him. Light, affectionate, occasionally overly respectful, full of brightness.

He forgets, often, that Minseok is a man, truly. Strong and always taking care of the people around him, agile and charismatic.

It’s hard to forget when he performs, and even from the side of the stage, his motions are sharp, precise but smooth, nothing out of place and something next to perfect. 

It’s a strange thing, that he somehow had had a hand in leading him to this path where he belongs, watching him and seeing a multitude of people fall for that innate charm as his energy spills over from each song to the next. He forgets often that they are less than two years apart in age, but. He also remembers it at the most inconvenient of times.

“Oh, hyung!” his smile is bright, eyes more so as he runs over to him to greet him, hug him. It’s easy to forget the measly age difference when he’s a full head shorter, his hands small on his back and his grin wide and gummy. He doesn’t forget it, when he sees the way his shoulders have been filling out his shirts, now. The defined, not quite lithe, but a new broadness to his shoulders, a substantial change in his arms, built and meaty under his fingers as he embraces him.

Minseok had always been very bright, full of promise and quiet charm that Changmin had always found himself drawn to; only two years apart and yet it feels much more, with Minseok’s gentle exuberance and spirit. 

Now, though. He feels very much, just how little that gap is. The  _ want  _ thrumming in his veins is raw but quiet, even tender and fond when he smiles at Minseok, then smiling at their audience, amongst their many friends and artists, and this is how it changes.

The first night, he retires to his hotel room after the late meal, and finds himself not being able to sleep. He’s not sure of how much time really passes, but when he looks back to this moment in the future, he thinks of it being much too long, something like a long time coming, before there is a knock on his door, and a little beep and vibrate of his phone mere seconds later.

_ ‘Hyung let me in. I have sake.’ _

He finds that he can never really say no to Minseok. Never really could, for a reason he doesn’t know, nor cares to find out why. He just does, opens the door and takes in his smile, the brightness of it. 

“We can’t get drunk,” he says, and Minseok waves him off.

“We won’t, it’s a small bottle,” he says, and it is, and knowing their tolerances, it won’t even cause much of a dent. Drinking is always good though. Drinking with Minseok is even better, who loses his inhibitions slowly, but once he does, it’s always a memory. Everything always ends up being moments he treasures, anyway.

They stretched out on the sofa, tired but drinking together comfortably, the atmosphere warm as they pour out shots of the alcohol for each other, and there’s barely any in the bottle for either of them to get even the slightest bit tipsy, but it is relaxing, freeing all the same. 

“I think there’s enough for each of us,” Minseok says, hand on his chest as he pours out a bit for him to drink, polite and charming. 

“Hmm,” he hums before knocking back the shot, and they trade. He empties the last bit in the bottle into the small glass, and Minseok drinks it easily, never forgetting his manners.

He watches him quietly, takes in the thickness of his neck and his throat as he swallows the last bit of liquid, the swell of his muscles in the tank top he’s wearing, and he’s not drunk, but he asks, “You’ve been eating well, yes?”

Minseok blinks at him, answers, “I’ve been trying to get back in shape.”

“You weren’t out of shape before.”

“Oh, it’s, it’s not,” he says, and Changmin watches as his cheeks pink up. “That is to say. It’s comeback season. I’ve been preparing, is all.”

“But you’re eating well?” he asks again, and when he gently lays a hand on Minseok’s arm, gliding his palm down the really  _ beautiful  _ swell of his bicep, Minseok blushes even more. “I hope you are.”

“I’m trying to be healthier,” is what he says.

He’s bigger, Changmin wants to point out. He feels bigger under his hands, broader and it’s not to say he wasn’t attractive before, but the curve of his muscle under his fingers undoubtedly feels very nice, almost bordering on too much for him to handle and think about sanedly. 

“Hmm. You’ve been working very hard, Minseokie,” he says, and he knows. It’s been a tiring few days, many hours spent rehearsing and practicing, and if not, recording new things and preparing themselves and they’re not quite young, either of them, not anymore. It’s a tiring, exciting life. “Don’t work so hard that you get too tired.”

“Yes, hyung,” he says, and he nods, smiling at him. He’s infuriatingly endearing. “You too.”

And, because he can, Minseok moves closer to curl up against him, and Changmin forgets again, that two years is not so much, because Minseok looks so young, innocent and something that should be protected, though he’s well aware that Minseok would be more than capable of breaking people in half. Including him, most probably. It’s the strangest paradox.

“Ah, everyone else must be asleep now,” he muses, and Minseok snorts.

“You know they aren’t,” he says, looking up, and there is a small bit of mirth in his eyes. “Heechul and Baekhyun are out there, you know they aren’t.”

“Ah, I suppose that’s true,” he says, and the warmth between them is nice. Comforting. “Maybe you should have brought another bottle.”

“You said we can’t get drunk.”

“We wouldn’t have,” he says, and he pulls Minseok in closer, because he can. “Maybe we should go out and see where everyone else is?”

“No,” Minseok says decisively. “Don’t do that to yourself, trust me.”

“Trust you,” he says, scoffing, and it’s only because he’s older and his senior that Minseok doesn’t attack him too violently. All he does is sit up, a little glint in his eyes and swings his legs over him and sits on his lap, and this is a little new. Not unwelcome, though. 

“Yes. I know you’d much rather be here.”

“Maybe you’re a little hit, Min,” he says, setting his hands on his waist and anchoring him. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t have the urge to push him away. 

“No. Just a bit of excess adrenaline,” he says, and Changmin knows what he means. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Changmin keeps him seated when he tries to climb off, wanting him to stay. It’s late, he’s a little tired, and it feels oddly very good, to have Minseok on his lap. It’s a weight he welcomes, and he slides his hands down to his butt, and, to his surprise, Minseok pushes back, looking down on him with a curious, but undoubtedly heated gaze.

This is new. This is good.

“What are you doing, hyung?” he’s asking, setting his hands on his shoulders. Changmin lets him feel him up a little, pressing down on his shoulders, the hardness of his body. 

“Is this alright?” he asks, bringing his hands up and touching his face. He looks young, is young, but the way his eyes darken, it reminds him that Minseok isn’t quite as young as he always thinks he is. He is achingly handsome, and he’s so drawn to him.

“Go ahead, hyung,” he says, a little lilt to his voice, and the curve of his mouth is really very beautiful. Changmin wants to know the taste.

So he does, tilting his head up and pressing his lips against Minseok’s, moulding them together. He tastes sweet, but the press of his mouth is hard, insistent, and Changmin is opening his mouth and Minseok’s tongue is hot against his. 

Minseok’s hands cupping his face, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper, and he knows. Even if he is the hyung here, they are on even playing ground, with their want, with how they navigate things from here on out.

“Ah. I must admit, this is something I never thought would happen,” Minseok says, licking at the spots where his teeth have dug in a little too hard on Changmin’s bottom lip. Not hard enough for blood to be drawn, but certainly for his lips to bruise and swell, a sting that feels too good. 

“Then you must have wanted it to happen before?” he asks. Minseok’s smile is shy, but also sly.

“You have always been my favorite, hyung,” is what he says, and Changmin supposes that will suffice for now. 

Minseok kisses him first, mouth hot and his body is small but strong and built as he pulls him in closer, and Changmin is melting under him, sliding his hands down his thighs and squeezing, the muscle strong and meaty under his fingers.

“Can, can I do more?” he asks, and Changmin blinks at him. “I want to do more.”

“What is  _ ‘more?’”  _ he asks, and Minseok has this dark shine in his eyes that Changmin can’t read, but wants to know.

‘More’ ends up being Minseok trailing his mouth down his body, lips on his skin and fingers dancing under the hem of his shirt and tracing out his stomach, the lines and ridges and the hard work he’s put in. He does the same, lifting Minseok’s shirt and feeling the tautness of his belly, muscles defined and his skin hot, a little damp from exertion.

It’s not like he forgets Minseok’s age on purpose. But, he thinks it’s really only now, he’s seeing him as this kind of man. He feels foolish for never even considering it, before.   
Minseok gets down, down to the floor on his knees and Changmin can see where this is going, and it makes his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to,” he says weakly, but Minseok is palming the front of his sleep pants and then his mouth over the fabric, and the words leave him.

“Do you want it, hyung?” he asks, and Changmin almost doesn’t hear it. “I want to, tell me if you want it too.”

He wants it. He doesn’t know if he can have it, but he says, “Yes. Me too.”

“Okay,” he says simply, grinning. “Trust me.”

“Ah, if you say it like that,” he starts to say, teasing, but Minseok feels him up through the cloth, tracing the shape of him, and he melts back into the sofa. 

Minseok hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulls down his pants and underwear just enough, and there’s a hand on his half hard dick instantly. Smaller than his own, but softer, and his head falls back to the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

“Do you have anything?” Minseok asks him, and he almost doesn’t catch it.

“Ah, I don’t,” he says. It’s not like he was planning anything like this.

“Hmm, get some,” Minseok says, and Changmin trusts him with his life. “I hope you don’t mind this, for now.”

Changmin doesn’t understand, then Minseok licks the tip of his cock, and he understands too clearly.

He moans, back arching as Minseok licks all over him, tracing the veins and getting him slick, his hands where his mouth can’t reach. He fights the urge to push into his mouth before he’s ready, breath leaving him in short gasps as Minseok sucks his cock, the velvet heat of his mouth beautiful and making him hot everywhere.

“M-Minseok,” he breathes sharply when Minseok goes down on him further, taking a bit more of him. 

“Hmm. You really are like a god, aren’t you, hyung?” he says, but there is a bright lilt to it, and he feeds his cock back into his mouth, sucking and swallowing and it’s too early for him to need to come, but there is a swelling heat building up in the pit of his stomach, very much ready to snap, and Minseok doesn’t help when he reaches a little further and pets his balls lightly, feeling how full they are, and full on rolling the in his hands. He’s a menace, and Changmin feels like he’s about to explode.

“I’m. I’m not going to last,  _ fuck,”  _  he breathes, and Minseok is popping off him, a string of saliva connected from the tip and his mouth, and he licks his lips to snap it off. “Min, Minseok-”

“Fuck my face, hyung,” he more or less orders, and Changmin thinks he’s  _ great  _ at following orders. He rolls his hips forward, pushing his cock into Minseok’s willing mouth, and does as he’s told, fucking in and letting his cock be enveloped in the most perfect heat.

His pace grows gradually, until it’s fast and hard and just short of pounding, and he’s sweating everywhere and seeing stars against his lids and Minseok takes it beautifully, taking him into his mouth and sucking, his hands pulling him off so every inch of him is taken care off.

“Fuck,  _ gorgeous,”  _ he breathes, looking down and watching Minseok’s mouth, his lips stretch around his girth as he swallows him down, and he’s beautiful, quite a sight. He slowly, shyly, gets his hands in his hair, short, but enough for his fingers to scrunch and grab and  _ pull,  _ just slightly, and he  _ feels  _ the moan around his cock, encouraging him.

He pulls on his hair, guiding him on his cock and moaning and he fights back the whimpers, needing more and more, hot everywhere, and Minseok is sucking harder, louder, the sound awfully delicious in the quiet of his room, and he’s too much, too much, his hands then gripping on his thighs and short nails digging into the meat of his legs as he sucks him, and Changmin doesn’t know if he should stare or look away with how overwhelmed he is.

It’s when Minseok reaches back, just barely grazing his hole, that Changmin moans a little too loudly and snaps, and spills into Minseok’s mouth as he comes, and it’s a lot.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I should have said,” his apology dies in his throat when Minseok pulls off, merely thumbing what spills out of his mouth back in, closing his eyes as he swallows. “Oh. Okay.”

“I’ve waited a very long time for that,” he says, looking up at him. His eyes are still dark. “Thank you, hyung.”

“I feel like i should be the one thanking you,” he croaks, and Minseok just smiles wryly. “Ah, but what about you?”

“I’m fine,” he says, and Changmin blinks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung. It’s late.”

“But, you didn’t-”

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, pulling his pants back up for him, and standing, looking put together and not just like he’d just given the best blowjob Changmin has ever received. “I will come, when I’m back in my room and thinking about this.”

Changmin chokes. “That’s not  _ fair.” _

“Hmm, good night, hyung,” he says, leaning down to kiss him, tongue and teeth, and he leaves with the trash, and Changmin makes a note to buy  _ stuff,  _ because he’s not leaving this here.

.

“Hyung?” Minseok says, blinking at the light of the room, certainly brighter than it had been the night before, and Changmin looks up from where he’s finishing the pancake and noodles in the small kitchen.

“Min, did you bring the drinks?” he says, beckoning him to close the door and come in.

“Hmm, I brought beer too,” he says, holding up a few bottles in each hand, and he sets them up at the table in front of the sofa, ready for a simple meal.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and Minseok looks at him. He looks young again today. His lips especially pink, and Changmin tries not to focus on them too much, how they were wrapped around his dick last night. 

“Hmm, I ate a little after the show with the other members,” he says, making his way to the kitchen to offer his help, but Changmin waves him off, already mostly finished. He persists anyway, taking the platter of bulpaghetti from his hands and bringing it over to the table, and Changmin smiles to himself as he follows with the pancake and soup, and they get comfortable, sitting closely as they put food on each other’s plates.

“Hmm,” Minseok is drinking the soup already, and Changmin watches him with the guise of cooling his noodles, but he’s not subtle.

“How is it?” he asks when he puts the bowl down, and Minseok is swiping at the liquid on his bottom lip, achingly, infuriatingly similar to the night before. Changmin is finding it a little hard to breathe.

“A bit salty,” he says, just to be a little difficult, and Changmin rolls his eyes, hitting his arm lightly, but he’s drinking even more of it from his bowl, blowing to get it a bit cooler. 

“I’m sure I didn’t undercook the pancake, this time,” he says, and Minseok gives a bit of a chuckle, before he picks up a small square of it with his chopsticks and pops it into his mouth. He’s an endearing, cute eater, and it adds to the overwhelming image of fake youth. It’s like whiplash, this Minseok, and the Minseok who sucked him off and swallowed him down. 

“Ah, hyung, you treat me too well,” he says, and Changmin knows he means it, is grateful. “Thank you for the food.”

“Hmm, it’s nothing,” he says, because he truly doesn’t mind. It’s rather nice, really, to cook for him. “I just want you to eat well.”

“Of course, hyung,” he says, bowing his head a little, and he makes it so hard for Changmin to forget he’s not actually the youngest in his group. “Thank you, for looking out for me.”

“Of course,” he says, pouring out a drink for him. “You’re my favorite. Ah, do not tell Junmyeon or Chanyeol.”

“Like they don’t know that themselves,” he says, grinning, knocking back the shot, and doing the same for him.

They talk quietly, easily as they eat and drink, and it’s a comfortable night. There is still a bit of a buzz that had lingered after the energy of the crowd and the show, but he’s not too affected, when the company is good and there’s a little bit of alcohol.

Things wind down after a few hours, and it’s late, very early morning late, and the food long gone and the beer and sake almost finished, and after everything they’ve eaten and the time had passed, they’re more or less sober. So he supposes it’s out of real bravery rather than liquid courage when Minseok says after a lull in the conversation about their pets, “About. About last night, hyung. I hope I didn’t push you too far.”

Changmin blinks, not knowing what he’s talking about. Then, he realizes, and shakes his head, his hands, putting down his food and needing him to understand. “No, Minseokie. It wasn’t, I. I actually really liked it, liked it very much.”

He blinks in turn, and his cheeks pink up beautifully. “Oh?” 

He looks at him, really looks, and he’s doing that thing again. The beautiful young-but-not-that-young expression that seems to hide his age, but not so much that he forgets he’s a man. 

“Hmm, don’t be coy. You know you did well,” he says, and Minseok’s blush deepens further, but his smile is guileful, and Changmin pours out the last of the sake for him. “I feel bad, that I was not able to return the favor for you.”

“Oh, no, hyung,” he says, taking his time to drink and think of what to say. “I. It was more than enough, for me to do that for you. I liked it.”

“Ah,” he says, unsure of what to say. “But. Forgive me for being forward. I would like to do more, with you.”

Minseok blinks again, and his eyes go dark, a promise of more. “Hyung, don’t tempt me.”

“Why else do you think I bought condoms and lube and saying all this?” he says, and he sighs. “I was hoping for a better segue, but I’m afraid I’m being too direct out of excitement.”

“I do like my men straightforward,” Minseok says, smiling, and he leans forward, kissing him, and Changmin lets himself sink into him. He’s a balm. 

Minseok’s lips are soft, and Changmin bites them, as Minseok bites his, and it progresses quickly and heatedly, and eventually, they’re on the sofa, laying back with Minseok on top of him, hands pulling at hems and touching skin and and Changmin sucks on Minseok’s tongue, slipping his hands under his shirt and feeling the broadness of his back, the muscle hard and melting under his touch.

Minseok rolls his hips down, their stiffening lengths grinding on each other, and they moan into each other’s mouths, wanting a bit more, needing it. 

“I want to see if your bed is nicer than mine,” Minseok says against his lips, and Changmin palms his ass, squeezing, making him moan.

“Brat,” he says, and Minseok is blinking. Then, a grin spreads on his lips, and he’s kissing him again.

_ “I’m  _ always the one calling other people brats,” he says, and he sounds too happy about being called one. Changmin is a little confused. “Ah, so this is how it feels.”   
“No, it’s, it’s not, ah, nevermind,” he says, and he’s pulling Minseok down by the neck and licking into his mouth, feeling him up. 

They strip each other of their clothing as they make their way to the bed, and he barely remembers to get a good look of Minseok naked and spread out below him on the mattress before he starts prepping him. He does, though, and it’s worth the extra few seconds.

He’s beautiful, definitely much broader, filled out nicely, not too much for his small frame, but the muscle on his body is just the perfect amount, built and defined and balanced. His eyes looking up at him are bright and expecting, dark with want, his lips puffy and kiss bitten and he’s gorgeous, really such a man, young but, also not, and he knows exactly what he wants.

“Ah, you’re so pretty,” he says, and Minseok is smiling up at him.

“Thank you, hyung,” he says, and he’s blushing again and Changmin can’t take it. He leans down and kisses him, touching him everywhere. He brings his body down, and they moan again as they grind against each other, cocks almost completely hard and rubbing against each other, the slide of their skin a little dry aside from the precome between them, but it still feels much too good. 

“Min, Minseokie,” he says breathily as he reaches over to where he’d hidden his purchases under the pillow, hands hot on his skin. “Do, do you want this?”

“Yes,” he nods, kissing him hard. He’s almost trembling.

“Won’t it be hard for you to move, tomorrow?” he says, and Minseok is grinning below him.

“I can handle it,” he says, his eyes shining with want. “And, to be honest, I’m looking forward to feeling it tomorrow. Feeling it and knowing what we did.”

“Ah, you  _ brat,”  _ he says, grunting a bit as he comes down again to kiss him. He’s slicking his fingers up with lube, pulling his body close, and Minseok spreads his legs for him easily, willingly, and Changmin’s heart is pounding in his chest but feeling light, all at the same time. He traces his rim, feels Minseok quiver below him in anticipation, and he doesn’t want to tease him too much. 

He pushes one lubed up finger, slowly, into his hole, and watches Minseok’s face fall beautifully, his eyes flutter until shut and his mouth drop open in a little musical moan.

“Oh, more, please,” he asks, voice soft and high and his hands gripping Changmin’s biceps, tight and teeth digging into his skin. 

He gets his finger in completely, moving a little, making him moan. Adds more lube and pushes two fingers in, making him louder, making him feel it as he fingers him and gets him open for his cock. 

“That’s enough,” Minseok is panting against his lips when he has three fingers inside him, stretching his ass open. “It’s enough, hyung.”

“But. Are you sure?” he asks, unsure. Minseok reaches up to kiss him, and, to his surprise, turns them over with that unexpected strength he always seems to forget about and gets Changmin on his back, and he’s moaning, his own length spurting a little at the tip from the sudden shift in position.

“I’m sure,” Minseok is answering, tearing open a condom and sliding it down on his aching cock, lubing him up and Changmin struggles to not fuck into his fist, biting his lips and feeling very overwhelmed. “I know my body well. What it can handle, what it can’t. I know I can handle you.”

“You sound smug,” he says, trying to come off as teasing, but Minseok is getting on his knees and guiding his cock to where he’s stretched open and circling the tip around his asshole, and he can’t quite pull off a light tone in his voice. 

“Of course, hyung,” Minseok says just to be a brat, smiling serenely as he sinks down on his cock, and Changmin can’t help but throw his head back on to the pillow, overwhelmed with the sensation of being enveloped in perfect, tight,  _ tight  _ heat. “I’m having sex with a real god.”

“You  _ brat,”  _ he moans, reaching out and gripping Minseok’s small waist as he sinks down and bottoms out on his cock, his bouncy butt plush against his thighs. “Oh,  _ oh fuck.” _

“Oh, you’re big,” he breathes, setting his hands on his stomach and adjusting, taking in his size. His chest heaves a little, and Changmin waits, would wait for as much time as he needs.

He doesn’t need much, as it turns out. He’s rolling his hips, grinding down the cock already inside him and getting him deeper, and Changmin breathes hard, trying to ground himself.

“Oh,  _ oh,”  _ Minseok sighs as he moves his hips languidly, moving on his dick and taking it, setting his pace slowly, “How are you feeling, hyung?”

“Why does it always feel like I should be asking you that?” he says, gritting his teeth, and Minseok grins at him, lifting up and sinking back down, again and again, until he’s bouncing on his cock, fast and hard and filling his ass with him.

Changmin groans, grasping his waist, then moving down and holding his ass and  _ squeezing  _ his ass, nails biting in to the flesh, and Minseok yelps a little, leaning forward and getting at a different angle, fucking himself down and shutting his eyes as Changmin’s cock splits him in two.

“Oh, you feel good, hyung,” he says, breathy and moaning as he goes harder, pounding himself down. Changmin feels like he’s about to die.

“You’re.You’re so tight around me, Minseokie,” he grunts, trying a small thrust upward, and it’s immediately devastating. Minseok moans, loud and arching his back and hands squeezing into fists on his belly, cock spilling a little and his ass clenching deliciously around him. 

_ “Changmin,”  _ he moans, velvet heat around him and he’s throbbing inside, and Minseok feels like he’s made to ride him, made to take his cock and he wonders if he’ll be able to take him in, as well. The possibility makes him even harder, makes him moan as he drives his hips up on instinct and give it to him, give him everything. “Oh, hyung. You feel so good, hyung,  _ fuck.” _

“That’s it, Minnie,” he says as he fucks him, thrusting up and into him, pulling out all the way and guiding his body down to lay on top of his. Takes his cock in his hand, the other spreading Minseok open, and he guides the tip to trail all over his ass, teasing. Tracing his hole, where he’s wet and open waiting for him, between his cheeks, sliding a bit and his own eyes rolling to the back of his head from the sensation, and Minseok reaches back, touching him too. Stroking until he’s even harder, and he has to be back inside. 

“Oh,  _ fuck, fuck me,”  _ Minseok says breathily as he guides his cock to his ass, pushing in patiently inch by inch until he’s balls deep, turning his head a little and licking all over his chest, bitting and tracing his nipple with his tongue, and Changmin follows. 

Fucks him this way, guiding Minseok’s arms to around his neck and tightening his own around his waist, and brings him down to nail him, ram his length into him.

Minseok’s moan is earth shattering, pushing his ass up and out and the next thrust in is loud, audible as their skin meet and it’s disgusting and glorious. 

Their mouths find a way back to each other as they fuck, never straying far as Minseok rolls his hips and he pushes into him, and he’s close. So close, too close.

“Min, Minseokie,” he breathes, and Minseok understands. Pushes himself up, looks down at him with a glint in his eye, and  _ rides.  _ Takes his cock into his ass and tightening around his length, squeezing and clenching and his pace is a little wild, hard and Changmin can barely keep up with the way his cock is swallowed into the tightness of his ass, and it won’t take long at all. 

“Oh,  _ fuck, Minseok,”  _ he gasps, pants as he loses his pace and goes in sharper, harder, and he chokes on his breath as he comes hard into the condom, never stopping, wringing it out.

He thrusts up sharply, doesn’t wait to get a hand on Minseok’s furiously hard dick, the first time he’s really touching it, thick and wonderful in his hand, and he strokes him hard and fast as he fucks him, sensitive but needing him to come. 

“Hyung,  _ hyung,”  _ he groans, and he’s spilling all over his hand, his stomach, and it’s so much hotter than it should be as he clenches his ass around his spent cock and comes, ribbons and more of white.

“Shit,  _ shit,”  _ Changmin breathes, fucked out thoroughly and exhausted, and he helps Minseok to lay next to him. They’re both breathing hard, chests heaving with exertion, and. Shit, he didn’t know it could be like that. He doesn’t know how he’ll settle for something that’s  _ not  _ this.

“Oh, I’m going to feel that tomorrow,” Minseok says, and he’s laughing, then gasping a little. “Oh, I’m tired.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Minseok turns his head a little to look at him. He’s smiling.

“I’m good. Really good,” he says, grinning, wider and wider, and they’re gross and sweaty and he has to get rid of the soiled condom and there’s fluids all over them, but Changmin pulls him in closer, bodies flush and kissing him deeply.

“Thank you, Min,” he says, and Minseok blinks at him, sleepy and curious, but he seems to get it anyway, kissing him.

“Thank you, hyung,” he says in reply, and they have a little moment of still, and it’s good. It’s really good.

.

He and Siwon and Minho somehow drift together at the end, waving and he looks over all the heads and pink shirts. 

Minseok finds himself towards him, as it turns out, after a little bit of flying through the stage and not looking at all like he’d gotten it good the night before, his movements just as agile and quick and sharp. Energy and brightness, and he comes into their fold easily, and Changmin wraps an arm around him, pulls him in and they huddle. He looks at him, stares, and it’s that weird great young-but-not-really thing again. He’s not much younger than him, than Siwon, even older than Minho, but he looks as if he is, acts as if he is, but also not. He’s bigger and older and his body is showing for it and he’s a man, unthreatened and unbothered by the way he looks, and Changmin can’t stop looking at him. 

Minho leans in and says something to him, and Changmin notices his hand on Minseok’s ass, the smiles on their faces, and he gets it. Understands why they all act like that around him, like he’s so much younger than he is and like he lights up everything and it’s easy to forget that he isn’t so young. 

Changmin finds that he can’t really forget now. Is always reminded of it, with the memories of his lips on his and his hands on his skin and everything, everything leads to another memory and he finds that he likes them all. 

They may all treat him that way, but Minseok is different with just him. He’s the favorite after all.

It’s easy, later, after the big company dinner and drinks, to head up to his room, claw at each other’s clothes and get each other naked. Easier to fall back on to the bed and lick into each other’s mouths and touch each other everywhere they can.

“H-Hyung,” Minseok pants, and Changmin leans in to steal the breath from his lips, getting his hand around their lengths and stroking them together, and they’re gasping into each other’s mouths. “C-Changmin, please-”

“That’s right, Minnie,” he murmurs, letting him clutch on to him, letting his nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, “tell me what you need.”

“You, you,” he says, kissing back, and Changmin drinks him in, breathes him in. Wants to take him in.

“Come on, Minseokie,” he says, turns them so he’s on his back, Minseok hovering over him properly, eyes dark and lips pink. “Come on.”

“How, hyung?” he asks, and Changmin is spreading legs for him to slot between them, pulling him down and kissing him some more, and it’s an answer without words. “I - really? Are you sure?”

“Come here,” he says, and Minseok comes down easily, moulding their bodies together, kissing him. “Ah, Minseok, please, now.”

“Okay, hyung,” he says, and he doesn’t tremble when he reaches over for the lube and a condom, doesn’t shake or shiver or stutter when he slicks his fingers to open him up. 

His hands are small, but evidently skilled as they reach down between his legs and back to where he’s waiting and wanting for him, he first finger pushing in slowly, then all at once. Changmin groans and holds his shoulders, his arms as he parts his legs further apart, Minseok twisting his finger in and opening him up, finger after finger. 

“Ah, ah,” he moans, little shirt gasps of noise and air as he’s fucked with three fingers, Minseok careful as he stretches him open, his other hand on his cock and pulling him off. His fingers spread inside him, and it’s good. Not quite perfect and a little uncomfortable, but he hits  _ that  _ angle and it’s amazing and he would scream, had their lips not been smashed together. 

“Hyung,” he breathes, and he’s strong and gorgeous. “Hyung.”

“Inside me, Minnie,” he says, helping him with the condom and rolling it down his cock, and Minseok fucks into his fist a few times, grunting. 

He gets himself slick, and sets one hand on Changmin’s stomach. His eyes are set on his, blown out and intensely beautiful, as he traces his hole with the tip, and he’s pushing in inch by inch, and when he’s inside fully, stretching him open, Changmin moans, adjusting around the thickness inside him. 

“Oh,  _ oh,”  _ he groans, Minseok dropping his head to his chest and breathing hard as Changmin clenches around him, and they both adjust around the sensation. 

“You’re, you’re tight, hyung,” Minseok says, almost a whine, grinding in a little and making them both grunt, and Changmin is so  _ full  _ with him, split on his cock and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to take the plane ride home tomorrow, his ass stretched so well and he knows he’ll feel it still when this is done. 

“Move, Min,” he says, trailing his hands down and grabbing his ass, needing him to move and fuck him.

Minseok, he knows, is not usually one to be led. But he follows through  _ beautifully,  _ pulling out until he’s almost empty and slamming back in, a powerful force with his hips and the skin smacks together and the air is punched out of him as he gasps, feeling full and already taken care of.

The pace is fast, hard, Minseok fucking him with pounding thrusts, his hard cock thick and a welcome pressure in his ass, and Changmin had always known he could move. With the way he danced, all precise and sharp and smooth, with the way he held himself, he had always known. He did not know that it could be like  _ this,  _ his hips hammering into his and nailing at the perfect angles, hard but still languid, like liquid as he pounds into him, pumping his cock into his ass.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Minseok breathes, hands on his waist and gripping him, pulling his body down to his cock as he thrusts and the meeting of their skin a resounding smack that’s glorious and disgusting. Changmin moans, feels his ass shake from the force of it, and he takes it as well as he can. He thinks he’s doing well, with the way Minseok won’t stop praising him, won’t stop moaning and his already quick pace increasing.

“You’re doing so well, Minseokie,” he breathes, gasps as he’s rammed into, Minseok making it so good for him, hard and reaming him out so thoroughly he’s losing his breath and his legs start to shake, which is new. It’s a good, overwhelming feeling, feeling so shaken up in the best sense of the word, fucked and feeling good, amazing.

“You too,” Minseok bites out, giving it to him, and Changmin pulls him down to kiss him, their lips swollen and bruised and sensitive and they just do everything harder. Kissing, touching, fucking, and it’s intensely beautiful, much like he is.

“Harder,” he says, and Minseok goes, ramming into his ass and impaling him, making him feel it, and Changmin takes deep breaths as he’s fucked, split open with his thick girth, like he’s being split in two and it’s glorious. His cock bounces against his stomach, rubbed between their bellies every time Minseok drives forward into him, and it’s hard and spurting a bit at the tip, and he’s not sure how long they’ve been fucking for. A few mere minutes or several hours that bleed from the late night to the very early morning, he’s unsure, but it feels too long and too short all at the same time when the heat builds up at the pit of his stomach, and he needs to come but also needs to be fucked, more and more.

_ “Fuck,”  _ he moans, head falling back on the pillows and Minseok latches on to his exposed neck, licking over his sweaty skin. “I,  _ fuck,  _ I need to come, I need to come-”

“I’ll fill you up, hyung,” he promises, kisses him fiercely, pushing his hips into him and giving him his dick. 

“A little more, Minseok,” he urges, wraps himself around him, legs, arms, heart, and Minseok hides his face in his neck as he fucks him with everything he has, which is  _ so much,  _ so generous and giving and powerful with his thrusts that jostle them both up the bed and make it seem like there’s no air to breathe in. He fucks in and it’s  _ there,  _ “Oh, oh,  _ Minseok,  _ there,  _ right there-” _

_ “Yes, hyung, hyung,”  _ he moans, piercing him with his cock and Changmin clenches his ass around him, tightly, until Minseok’s hips stutter and he’s coming into the condom, gasping as he fucks hard and fast without rhythm and he’s done.

His ass is suddenly empty and there’s a hand on his cock, then lips, and he’s biting back a scream as Minseok licks around him and gets him off with his mouth and tongue. It doesn’t take long at all, and he’s spilling into the heat of his mouth, bucking up and Minseok takes him well, swallowing everything he’s offering, and he’s licking his lips and slithering back up, kissing him deeply.

“Ah, I’m tired,” Changmin says, laughing a little as he’s so fucked out and spent, boneless and Minseok smiles so shyly at him, blushing as if he hadn’t nailed him to the bed and split him open. “You did really well, Minseokie.”

“Thank you, hyung,” he says, tucking his face into his chest, and Changmin holds him close, arms around him, and, quietly, he kisses his forehead gently. He doesn’t know if Minseok shivers, or if it’s him. “I really like it, with you.”

“Hmm,” he says, and they really should clean up, and they’re both sweating and a little disgusting, but that would mean having to get up. He doesn’t want to move. “What do you mean?”

He’s quiet, considering his words. Then, he says, “It’s. A little bit more free, with you. I don’t have to reign it in so much.”

Changmin understands. Tilts his head up and kisses him. “I’m glad. I like it too, with you. You’re my favorite. Really.”

Minseok sets his chin on his chest, and he’s beaming. Beautiful young-but-not-that-young thing he is. 

“I wonder how it will be, to sit on a plane for hours tomorrow,” he sighs. Minseok grins wider.

“Make me dinner when we get back, hyung,” he asks, and Changmin gives him a look,  _ brat.  _ But it’s not like he’ll say no, knows he wants to do it. Minseok is always taking care of someone else, and he likes doing it for him.

“Hmm,” he hums noncommittally, and Minseok pouts a little, trying to appeal to him. “Find your way to my seat up front tomorrow. Convince me.”

Minseok grins. Changmin thinks he’s pretty beautiful.

.

“You’re quiet today.”

“I’m always quiet,” he says, keeping his head down as they make their way through the airport.

Yunho stares at him, “You’re more quiet than usual.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he says, and he can feel him roll his eyes at him, but he doesn’t bite, and they wait, watching through the crowd and doing their best to ignore the cameras. 

Yunho starts using his phone when the wait drags on. Changmin keeps his eyes up, looking for those young-but-not-young eyes, bright and beautiful and a little deadly. 

It’s hard to find him, Minseok’s height not giving him any favors and he’s hidden too well, but he sees him. Flattened hair and mask and clothes that are too loose and make him look even younger than he is, and the eyes find him back. They’re full of light and a bit of mirth when he stares back, and he tilts his head a little, and Changmin knows he’s smirking under the mask. The distance doesn’t diminish his brightness, and he’s nodding a little when he goes ahead, helping herd his own members for the lines. Looking like the youngest but acting his age. Changmin wants to baby him and wreck him a little and be wrecked in turn. It’s a wild feeling, one that he’s not used to, but not really opposing.

“Where did you go last night?” Yunho is asking. He’s still using his phone. “You went up early. You missed the hard stuff. Siwon lost a game and had to pay for the whole bar.”

“Like he can’t buy the bar,” he says. Minseok’s head disappears from his sight, but there’s a buzz in his pocket.  _ ‘Tell Yunho-hyung I might sit on your lap later.’  _ He’s even used emojis, a brat. “Was tired. I went up to drink with Minseok in my room instead. It was too noisy.”

“Hmm, Myeonnie was looking for him, so he was with you?”

“He’s my favorite,” he just says, and he’s texting back,  _ ‘You tell him yourself. Avoid emojis.’  _ It barely takes a minute.

“Why is Uminnie sending me all these smiley faces?” Yunho muses out loud, and Changmin blinks, then he’s sighing.

He’ll undercook the pancake and purposely oversalt the soup tonight, for this.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/markxiuyeols)
> 
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